From the Corner of my Eye
by whatidowithmyfreetime
Summary: Jazz sees Danny from the corner of her eye. Takes place in an AU where Danny didn't survive the portal accident. Angsty, but sweet?


**Well hello there. Don't mind me, just dropping off a bit of angst after a seven or so month hiatus.**

 **Disclaimer: Don't own Danny Phantom. I really hope that doesn't come as a shock to any of you.**

 **From the Corner of my Eye**

From the corner of my eye, I see my brother.

On November 5th, I went for a jog through town. It was cold and miserable, but I couldn't see that making much of a difference on me. So I pulled on my hoodie and laced up my sneakers, and plastered on a brave face. It was only once I was outside that I knew I was right. The frigid weather couldn't make the cold colder. But that really wasn't what was on my mind. My mind was focused solely on one task. In and out. In and out. In and out. One foot ahead of the other. I had no music to listen to as I went. I had no astounding scenery to look about. There was nothing to distract me from the steady metronome of my breathing.

But, to be fair, that's why I went for the jog in the first place.

As grey building, after grey building passed me by. And as dull person, after dull person was left in my dust. I made the utter mistake of thinking. You see thinking isn't the best road for me. Thinking is what leads to memories and emotions. Thinking always brings me back to one moment, just two months passed. Distractions are better than thinking. Running is supposed to be better.

Unfortunately, as the minutes ticked by, my lungs began to function independently. They no longer required my full attention. Even my heart rate began to even out. I knew my legs were moving by my own volition, but it didn't really feel like they were my own anymore.

As they say, drastic times call for drastic measures. I rounded the corner to one of the increasingly numerous spots I try to avoid in town. The Nasty Burger. After such dreary surroundings, the popular hangout seemed distressingly lively and colorful. I cringed, and began to rethink going this way. Bored or not, this… this was all just too much. I decided on a new approach. Run faster. I almost sighed in relief as my attention was once again needed on my breathing. In out. In out. In.

I try to focus on one thing at a time. Narrow-mindedness is key to avoiding the whole emotion/memory conundrum. But when I passed by the Nasty Burger. When I saw a flash of the bluest blue and the widest grin in the window. When I heard a laugh that was so unmistakably _Danny_. I forgot to exhale.

On December 24th, I was sitting on my couch. It was Christmas Eve, and I was sitting in my house. It was the day when my parents, traditionally, couldn't stand each other. And I was sitting. In my house. In silence.

I grabbed my coat and left. My mom looked up from her bowl of cookie dough. My dad glanced up from the invention he had been tinkering with. The house was green and red and sparkling with a gaudy number of lights and decorations. A radio hummed out the tune to Jingle Bells, or Santa Baby, or Baby it's Cold Outside. But it was too dark. It was too quiet. And within seconds, I was out on the street.

I was thinking again. I was thinking about how much Danny hated Christmas. I could picture all of those Christmas's where I had tried to protect him. To cheer him up. But, when your parents could never stop arguing about the holiday's enigmatic figure head long enough to actually celebrate with you, Christmas tends to lose its charm.

I stuffed my hands in their pockets, wishing I had stopped long enough to grab mittens before I left. I didn't know where I was going. I figured I was just wandering. But at some point, I found myself at the big pine tree in the center of town. It was decorated with an incredible amount of tinsel and fairy lights. I walked about it in fascination. Every branch was weighed down by little handmade ornaments. Ornaments made by every kindergarten class for as long as I can remember. Ornaments that all seemed very similar to the unskilled eye. Each coated in pompoms, paint, and far too much glitter. But I like to see them as snowflakes. Each as unique as the child that made them.

At first I was just glancing. But after a few minutes of shuffling around the tree, my steps began to quicken. My eyes were jumping from branch to branch, ornament to ornament. They would linger only long enough as to read the sometimes illegible scrawl of the artist's name in the corner. My breathing was becoming erratic. I was rapidly becoming more and more frantic. I didn't even fully realize what I was doing.

Not until I heard his slight cough.

I stopped. There was someone a little ways around the tree. His raven hair was tucked inside his favorite red knit hat. His torso was concealed completely under his puffy coat. His cheeks were a bit rosy from the cold. His blue, blue eyes were twinkling.

"I remember when I showed them this. Mom and dad. I think they might have been mad that I didn't pick a side. Or maybe they were just a bit shocked. Because they didn't say a thing. But I will never forget that for just that moment, I got them to stop fighting on Christmas Eve." His breath curled upwards with his words. His voice was nostalgic. I figured it would be. Nostalgic, or angry, or upset. But I really didn't expect him to smile.

I walked over and stood next to him. We both gazed up at the very thing I had been searching for. Despite being slightly battered, and despite containing several spots now bald of glitter or paint. I could clearly see Santa sitting proud in his UFO. His hat slightly compressed by his two antennas, but otherwise looking as jolly and familiar as ever. His ship surrounded by an ocean of stars.

In the corner I could read Danny's name.

On January 20th, I saw Danny sitting in a classroom at school. He wasn't taking notes. Lancer didn't seem to mind.

On February 3rd, I walked into the arcade. He and Tucker were huddled around some game in the corner. He was egging Tucker on.

On February 14th, I caught him trailing, lovesick, after Sam. She didn't seem to notice. Her expression remained as gloomy as ever, if not more so.

On March 5th, I saw him sitting on the stairs to the basement. He smiled as our parents worked. He lit up when this or that invention whirred to life. I couldn't help but find that ironic.

Tonight, I sat next to him on the roof. We turned off the gigantic Fenton Works sign, broke out a telescope, and spent the night stargazing.

From the corner of my eye, I see my brother.

But the corner of my eye is only so big.

On November 5th, I backpedaled. I ran straight back to that window. But the smile and blue eyes weren't there. There was just Tucker and Sam. Eating lunch.

On December 24th, I looked down. There was only one set of footprints in the snow.

On January 20th, I looked up from that empty desk to the empty seat it was attached to.

On February 3rd, I watched Tucker lose that game. He walked passed me to leave, alone.

On February 14th, I saw Tucker hugging Sam in the hallway. She couldn't stop crying.

On March 5th, I walked down the basement stairs with ease. It wasn't like there was anyone in my way.

Tonight, he told me the stories behind all the constellations. Tonight he lamented about his subpar grades, and how there's no way he could ever be accepted into a NASA program. Tonight I gave him a hug. Tonight I promised to help him get his grades up. Tonight I swore he would go to space. Tonight the corner of my eye was big enough. Tonight we went stargazing.

 **I highly doubt anyone remembers my regrettably unfinished story (The Unseen Boy). But if you do, sorry about that. I'm sure I'll get to it eventually. Lovely seeing you all again! Catch you again in (probably) another seven months!**


End file.
